Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Brunei and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Smoke to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tim Buckley,
UT,
Echospace,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Names,
Goldenarms,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jawbox,
Donald Byrd,
The Velvet Underground,
Stereo Dub,
Scratch Acid,
The Tremeloes,
the Germs,
Howard Jones,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Aswad,
June Days,
Faust,
Roxette,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eve St. Jones,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fortunes,
Harry Pussy,
The Fall,
Basic Channel,
the Soft Cell,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Reuben Wilson,
Todd Terry,
The Searchers,
Morten Harket,
The Victims,
Jerry's Kids,
Joe Finger,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rekid,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Associates,
The Skatalites,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Main Source,
New Order,
The Leaves,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ornette Coleman,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Smiths,
The Fuzztones,
Index,
Newcleus,
Hot Snakes,
Ossler,
Franke,
Jacques Brel,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.